


Whom Gods Destroy

by MrsHamill



Series: Sandman Crossover Project [6]
Category: The Sandman (Comics)
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Multiple Crossovers, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 21:59:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6026767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsHamill/pseuds/MrsHamill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You can lead a horse to water....  Pairing: Garak/Destruction</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whom Gods Destroy

**Author's Note:**

> For Camille.

* * *

Left his baseball.

You have to hand it to Sisko, the man certainly knew all about gestures. Dukat didn't get it, of course, that idiot wouldn't understand a pile of shit if it were placed upon his _head_. He always lost at _Kotra_ too. Probably cheated at cards. Badly.

He leaned against the dark window, turned to a mirror from the darkness of his shop behind him, and wondered when his life had changed so much that he could forget how scary it was. Perhaps he had been getting soft, spending time with these Federation types who would, forever, help the needy instead of kicking them aside. He thought of Bashir and swallowed. Best for the good doctor to merely stay away. He didn't need to see any more human suffering, it would only hurt his fragile senses.

Not to mention his own fragile senses.

Things had been better in the old days, back when he was still with the Obsidian Order. Back then, you knew who was on your side -- no one -- and you knew who to kill -- everyone. Now, though, he had weaknesses. He had friendships. And no, regardless what Dukat thought, they weren't the same thing. He would maintain that until the day he died, no matter how soon that day might be upon him.

He closed his eyes, trying to blank everything out. When he opened them again, there was someone standing behind him. 

It was a big cardassian male, unfamiliar to him, which was odd because he thought he knew everyone currently on DS9. Terek Nor. Whatever. But he didn't recognize this chap. He wasn't even full cardassian, his skin wasn't gray, it was more... rusty. And his hair was almost red -- though it could be a trick of the reflection.

Wondering why he felt no alarm, he frowned. "Who are you?"

"You summoned me, you should know."

He turned and, with a shock, realized the only place he could see the mysterious man was in the reflection of the viewport. "What are you?" he whispered, once he had turned back to the glass. He saw his eyes grow wider.

"Same answer. I don't do this anymore. You might have summoned me, but I quit a long time ago. So you can just quit. It won't work."

"I didn't summon anything." He kept his voice low; no sense in giving the occupying force any more ammunition against him. And just when had his fellow cardassians turned into 'the occupying force' anyway? "And I know I would never summon some kind of half-breed freak who can only be seen in reflections."

"You see me as I am, as you are. You wanted destruction, you wanted to kill them all. I'm here to tell you, you'll have to do it without me. I won't be a party to it."

"What are you talking about?" He glared at the reflection. "I just told you, I summoned no one. And I don't want to kill anyone."

"Yes, you do." The big cardassian glared at him. "You want to kill them all so you won't have to choose what side you're on. You want to die with them, so the friendships you've made won't hurt you any more. You want their stupidity made manifest for all to see. You want to become even more of an outcast than you are, because that's the way of least pain to you." The person made a disgusted noise. "You cardassians. You're all alike in your need to break whatever is built."

He blinked. An old, old memory, deep down, long repressed, slipped to the surface. Something his _adja_ said to him, when he was still a child, uncorrupted. Untainted. Still loved by his father. "You are The Destroyer," he whispered.

"Give the man a prize."

"I did not summon you. I would not have, I know that."

"Ignorant too. What, do you think I need candles and mystical boxes? Your need for me was such that you forced me out of retirement, but not for long. Do it yourself, cardassian. You've already dug yourselves in so deeply it'll be a wonder if you ever make it out."

The reflection began to fade, but suddenly, he realized he had questions. "Wait! Please."

His answer was a wordless glare, but he was used to that. He could still ask questions, better cardassians -- and humans, for that matter -- had tried to put him off asking questions.

But he had a question that burned its way out of his head. He needed to know. He _had_ to know. "Will they fall? Will they fail? Ever?"

"Everything falls. Everything that goes up will come down." The man's eyelids drooped and his expression went flat. "It's just a matter of time. Less for some than others."

He nodded. "I see." Just a matter of time. Well, he knew that. "Thank you."

"I will not say you are welcome, for you are not. Do not call upon me again, for I will not come."

"Understood." Yes, he understood very well. He would not need to call again, because, well, it was only a matter of time. The Federation would return. Sisko had left his baseball here. Julian had left his heart. He hoped.

Elim Garak turned away from his shop, from his people, from what he thought was his life. Instead, he focused on the stars outside, where hope was, where _his_ hope was.

"It's called Deep Space Nine," he said, so softly that none of the planted listening devices heard him.


End file.
